


Comatose

by Skaikru1017



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: / I need practice and it fits the fic, 3x13 and on, Another COL spinoff, Because it's Kabby and I can't resist, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Chipped Abby, Complain if you want, F/M, Got trapped too easy, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I had to put the tag, I have no regerts, Its kinda more like Dub-Con but, K so its not as bad as it sounds, Little comfort, Mental Torutre, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Mackson, My take on 3x13, My take on A.L.I.E and all her shit, Physical Torture, Seduction, Sexual, Sexual Torture, Torture, You heard me, but before season 4, don't want anyone freaking out, like a hiatus type thing, minor PTSD, minor clexa - Freeform, poor Marcus, that's a thing, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skaikru1017/pseuds/Skaikru1017
Summary: Marcus finds himself in Polis, but it's not the city he loves. Gone are the crowded streets and busy market. Replaced with blood and kneeling soldiers. Crosses and their screaming writhing occupants have replaced the trading booths. Heda is dead, replaced with a new leader, not a night blood, no. The chip, the chip is everywhere.Will his salvation come, come to rescue him once more from himself. Or will his salvation be his destruction? His happiest dreams will become his worst nightmares. The City of Light is no heaven on Earth, it's hell brought to man.The city of light is no salvation, no escape from pain, but it's not the only thing left in the AI's arsenal.When they expect it the least it happens, a simple change in behavior that's so much more. Will they figure it out before it's too late, will they be able to stop it,Will they even want to?





	1. Convince Him

**Author's Note:**

> there isn't going to be any actual rape, things will make sense at the end of the story. Trust me alright?
> 
> This was originally going to be a songfic, then I got carried away and realized the song wouldn't work until the end, thus defeating the purpose. So here I give you, 
> 
> Me going back on the angsty drugs!  
> (random coughing in the background)  
> THE FIRST DOSE IS THE WORST!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd also like to say this really truly the first time I've ever tried writing ANYTHING like this, so..... bear with me please, I'm gonna do my best and leave out all the rest (linkin park jokes) But seriously, just hunker down and pray I can bring myself to finish this you all know me, I either praise the marshmallows with copious amounts of fluff, or create multiple assisted suicides (If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's probably a good thing) so ...... just yell at me in your mind when I screw up ok?

He’d been dragged into his room, it didn’t have any of his stuff, but it was his. More like  _ theirs, _ they’d shared it every summit since the Arkfall.  _ But she isn’t here, _ he hadn’t realized he said the words out loud until the soft symphony of that voice struck him straight in the chest. “Who isn’t here?” It questioned, and he melted. How he hadn't heard her come in was a mystery. A mystery he didn't care to solve. 

 

“Abby?” He rasped quite stupidly, still separated from her. They crashed together in the center of the room, bodies molding to each other.   _ Surely he was hurting her with how tightly he embraced her? _ Maybe she just doesn’t care, seemed like the most reasonable answer. “Marcus, oh, thank god.” He stepped back, as far as his mind would let him. Only enough to study her, ensure her safety, and convince himself of all of it. She looked unscathed, but looks can be deceiving, “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” His hand grazes her cheek and she seems to melt into his touch, it's an all-consuming rush of near euphoria to be the one bringing her comfort. Something he thought he was incapable of doing for anyone, let alone _ her. _ “They found me hiding in the woods near the camp.” A deep breath, a lone tear and then, “Please tell me you know where Clarke is.” His brow furrows and his eyes crinkle, worry lines etching deeper into his face. He steps back gazing down at the city below. “No. I thought she was here.” A voice, a strange and familiar one tells her it's the truth, echoing in the back of her mind. Telling her what to do and how to do it, and she does it. _ Convince him _ , it says,  _ Any means necessary, convince him. _ “No. I saw them shoot at her,” an involuntary sob wracks her body, making him take a tentative step forward. “She got in the rover with Jasper, and they got away, I’m… I’m sure.” He nods, hand coming up to rub the salt and pepper scratchiness of his jaw. “Well, that’s good. If the others found her that means she’s safe.”  _ Convince him, _ the voice is more insistent this time, telling not asking. “Listen to me. They're after Clarke.” He stops his pacing and absentminded grooming, giving her a confused stare. “How do you know they're after her?”

 

“They questioned me for hours.” She responds, wincing at how quickly and unconvincingly it came out. “She has something that they want.” She amends, much steadier and slower. “What? What?” Marcus asks, his entire body pulsing with worry and fear. “I don't know.” The voice is back, but with a new message. The forcefulness is frightening.  _ You know what you must do, now do it. Convince him. _ “Marcus...” She clings to him now, a small part of her steeling itself for what’s to come. “I’m afraid.” His hands rubbed up and down her back and she could feel the way his breath hitched when hers hit his neck, hot and inviting. Soon followed by her lips, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses up his neck and jaw, ending in an all consuming kiss to his mouth. It’s as if all the dopamine one could possibly have in their body without dying surged into him at once. Everywhere she touched his nerve endings exploded. Kissing Abby Griffin was like drinking moonshine and swallowing a lit match. All heat, all hunger, pure and raw passion. She pushed him back and he let her, they’d been on the cusp of  _ something  _ for an achingly long time, and nearly dying for the thousandth time pushed them over the brink. Memories of a nearly identical situation flash through his lust hazed mind. Something was nagging at his mind, fighting his urges and nearly failing. He’s down to just his jeans, which now hang blatantly open, a few small tugs away from freeing himself when it hits him. She’s kneeling before him, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his boxers, smirking up at him with hooded eyes. She kisses him through the fabric, smirking as she feels him grow harder under her touch. The shudder that runs through his body isn’t from pleasure though, nor is his grip the iron bedframe.t"You've taken the chip." He sounds impossibly hurt.  _The city will fix him,_ the voice reminds and she believes it. She stands up quickly, turning on her heel as two guards march in seizing him by the arms. The voice is telling her something, something awful, something she has half a mind to stop. It's strong though, two different voices are fighting for dominance in her head. If Abby could feel pain or anything substantial for the matter, her mind and body would be screaming at her to stop. To stop the men from tying Marcus’ hands to the bed frame with rough ropes. His arousal still visible through the thick canvas of his pants, she see’s that, hears him struggling, but for different reasons, fabricated reasons. She can’t fight the voice anymore, stubbornness and force of will just aren’t enough.

 

_ You can take his pain away, make him whole again. _

 

_ You can be happy, together. _

 

_ Safe, happy, together. _

 

_ Convince him _ . 


	2. No, You're Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new approach must be taken to the turning of Marcus.

His shirt is still forgotten somewhere on the floor, his breathing is erratic as he struggles against the bonds. Abby bites her lip, drinking him in with her eyes. Tanned skin and toned body from the weeks of building their home in the baking sunlight. Stabilizing the civilization Clarke had created.  _ Home? Their? Clarke, Clarke belongs at home? Wait, who is Clarke?  _ The thoughts plague her mind then evaporate, replaced with much more pleasant things.  _ Pleasant feelings,  _ all involving Marcus. She was going to save him, repay him for all the times he saved her.  _ Specifically that time in the service bay, before he almost sac-  _ There it is again, the desire flooding through her, cutting off her memories. They lock eyes and every possible thought that isn’t Marcus Kane dies. She thinks of the kiss, how soft his hair was, how he tasted. That musky earthy smell that clung to his jacket. She wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled. Marcus’ eyes widened when she stepped closer, pulling her lip between her teeth, openly appraising him again. He can’t help but groan when she slides into his lap deliberately slow.  “Abby,” He whined, rubbing his wrists raw from trying to escape. Her hands sculpted slowly over his chest, tracing patterns and making him shiver with feather light touches. Raking her nails down his neck and smoothing the marks over with her tongue. “Abby…. Please.” He’s whimpering now, muscles twitching under every touch. Abby can feel the effect she has on him, resulting in a smirk when she licks up his neck. “Please what…..  _ tell me what you want _ .” She kisses along his jaw, sucking on his pulse point and nibbling his ear. Marcus' body betrays him, a loud moan ripping from his throat. Her hands trail south and he bites his lip, the taste of copper on his tongue. She cups him through his pants, his hands jerk forward, dripping more crimson down his arm.

 

He’s so conflicted, between pleasure, fear, and something he can’t describe. It feels wrong like he’s betraying her trust, letting her do this. Letting her touch him in such a way, even though he isn’t  _ letting  _ her do anything.  _ This,  _ this is infinitely worse than anything else he’s experienced. His guard training, countless hours of being beaten senseless. The stifling skin melting heat of the maintenance shaft, the metal scorching his skin. The cut of the knife in the commander’s stronghold. It’s his greatest desire turned against him, the woman he so desperately loves practically worshipping him,  _ but she’s not here. _ It’s her body, her lips, her hands, but it isn’t  _ her, _ and that hurts most of all.

 

Abby's hands are everywhere, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He fights it, fights his restraints, fights the feeling, but he _just can’t._ He lets his head fall back, screwing his eyes shut tight. “ _Please…”_ The words are a struggle, a barely audible whisper. “Abby…. please…..stop.” Marcus’ eyes are still shut, he doesn’t see the hurt wash over her face. She pulls away, still straddling his waist, but not touching his skin. “I thought you wanted this, wanted _me. I thought you loved me."”_ It’s a punch to the gut because it’s _true,_  and painfully so. “I do, I want to be with _you_ , to help _you_ , to hold _you_ , to wake up to _you_.” He feels her breath against his ear, sending tremors through his body. “Marcus….. _I’m right here.”_ _Hope,_ he thinks, _have hope._ “No….no you’re not.” 

 

The door flies open, Thelonious flanked by two grounders stand at the foot of the bed. “Take the key Marcus.”  _ Disgust,  _ it churns his stomach and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d known Jaha since birth, they were  _ brothers. _ Earth had changed everyone, for better or for worse. “I’d rather die.” The guards begin untying him, dragging him up roughly. “We’re saving the human race Marcus, I thoughts that's what you wanted?” 

  
“What you’re doing is  _ crucifying  _ and torturing people you can’t control.” The grip on his arms tighten and he’s jerked sharply to the left, almost toppling over. “We’re saving them, even if they must be coerced,  _ we’re saving them. _ ” Marcus howls with laughter, adopting a mask of steel. “You can’t save those who don’t want to be saved.” That’s when the first punch hits.


	3. I can't remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking this back up, probably for a smallish multi chapter

Days could’ve passed and wouldn’t have known. Here, in the commander’s tower, taking beating after beating,  _ silently. _ Unmoving in his refusal to enter hell, as he’d begun to refer to it. When they couldn’t break him physically, they’d started trying to degrade his mind, it had worked. The only thing left was a scared and confused shell. The only thing he knew was to resist.  _ To keep fighting,  _ no matter the pain.    
  


That little plastic chip,  _ the damned key. _ It changed you, warped your mind, made you into something that wasn’t human.  _ He refused  _ and was beaten within an inch of his life for it. 

 

There were long gashes decorating his still bare chest, accompanied by long streaks of dried red. He doesn’t see an inch of his skin that isn’t cut, bloody, or badly bruised. Still, he remains silent, his throat too parched to speak anyway.Every day, or at whatever interval, guards walked in, armed to the teeth with knives and all sorts of devices to rip and mar his skin. It was a pattern,  _ a routine, _ and as a man of the guards, he could do routine. 

 

It wasn’t until he’d been alone in that decrepit room for much longer than he should’ve did he start to give in. Letting his body hang limply from his still bound arms. It’s the first moment of peace he’s had in a long time. It’s not  _ really  _ peace, but a distant state of mind induced by overstimulated pain receptors. But of course, in that moment he’s at his weakest the door opens, and he’s too far gone pick himself up. 

 

The gentle caress of fingertips against his chest makes him jerk away. Comfort is a lie,  _ compassion  _ isn’t real. Trust neither, resist both. Someone cuts the ties around his wrists and he prepares to fight. Wrapping his arms tightly around the nearest person's neck. It’s Bellamy or at least they  _ look _ like Bellamy. “ _ Kane!,  _ let go of him!” Clarke shrieks, trying to take Bellamy from his grasp.  _ Clarke wasn’t in Arkadia, Clarke isn’t chipped,  _ his mind says and his arms loosen. Shoving the gasping and sputtering boy away from him. 

 

The first thing she notices is his eyes, they’re wild with fear that’s almost animalistic. Rooted deeply and unmovable. “Marcus…” she whispers, hoping her voice would soothe him. His focus snaps up, his posture goes from defensive to almost cowering when their gazes meet. Abby reaches out, grazing the wound on the left side of his face. He jerks back again, hitting his head on the wall. She tries to reach out again but Bellamy gently grabs her wrist, moving her hand away. “Chancellor,” he warns, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She steps back, fingers coming to run over the cool metal of the pin on her jacket. 

 

Two guards come in, dragging a ragged looking Jaha between them. “Ma’am, what should we do with him.” Marcus’ growl cuts off her orders, but the scream that rings out as Marcus tackles the former Chancellor is clear as day. He sends blow after blow into any place he can, only faltering slightly when Jaha cries out in pain. “ _ Kane,” _ Clarke growls again, throwing herself between the two men. Marcus stops instantly, backing away. “Get him out of here!” Clarke orders, glaring at the guards who brought Thelonius in. “You, sit down,” Marcus sits immediately, and Abby gawks. Clueless as to when Marcus had sworn total loyalty to her daughter. “Mom, you can clean him up now.” The glare Clarke gives Marcus before she leaves makes him sit still through the entire treatment. Only flinching when she gives him an antibiotic injection. 

 

When she finished she took his hands, choosing to ignore the way he flinched and shook. “Marcus….. I’m right here, you’re safe now.” He looks and her and laughs, a kind of laugh that only comes from the deepest reaches of a defeated soul. “No, the real Abby doesn’t  _ love me, _ you’re not the real Abby.” He says is so matter of factly that she almost believes it. It’s strange, the last she remembers of Marcus is an Earth shattering kiss that hadn’t left her thoughts since….. well she couldn’t remember anything after the kiss.

 

Abby gets up, leaving him there on the bed broken but bandaged on the bed. He tilts his head while cataloging the few tears cutting through the thin layer of dirt on her cheeks.  _ Another trick,  _ his mind says in a strange and unfamiliar voice, _ compassion is a trap. Fight, it’s all you can do. _

 

It’s a 10-minute walk from the top of the commander’s tower the Jaha’s cell,  _ she does it in five. _ Grounders and Arkers alike parting for the furious Chancellor. She’s able to march right up to the asshole himself before meeting any resistance. “Mom, what are you doing?”

 

“My duty,” she sneers, more at Jaha than her daughter. “As what?” Jaha retorts, towering over her. “As a friend, a Chancellor and a human being.” She punches him, splitting his lip and making Clarke gasp, and then not so secretly laugh. “What did you do to him,” she growls, grabbing the scruff of his shirt. “No, what  _ you _ did to him.” Her grip tightened, choking him ever so slightly. “What the hell do you mean, I didn’t do anything to him.”

 

“Maybe not your mind, but your hands did enough.” She pulls the small knife Marcus had given her when he left on the peace mission from her pocket and holding it to his throat. “You little bastard,  _ what happened to him.” _ Jaha frowns, looking at her questioningly. “You don’t remember?” Abby moves the knife closer, lips forming a snarl. “I’m asking aren’t I?”

 

Clarke watches the man lean down, whispering something into her mother’s ear. Something that makes her scramble backward, clutching Marcus’ blade to her chest. She’s only ever seen that level of distress in her mother once before, in a time she doesn’t dare travel back to. 


	4. Voices

Clarke leaves Jaha in his cell, hoping some grounder would sneak in and finish the job she so desperately wanted to do. She chased her mother down until they reached the lift, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her into a vacant room. Her mother was  _ breaking, _ what she had believed to be impenetrable walls of resolve and strength shattered over a man Clarke didn’t know mattered to her mom. 

 

Abby sobbed and trembled in her arms, crying until her eyes burned and her throat was sore. Clarke just held her, running her hands through Abby’s hair, the way she used to when she had a nightmare. Before life was a nightmare itself. “Mom,” she whispered, trying to coax out an explanation. “I can’t remember Clarke….the things I did to him…..  _ I can’t remember.” _  Clarke pulls away slightly, frightened the desperateness in her mother’s voice. “What? What did she make you do?” Abby pulls back all the way, pressing herself against the wall and raising her arms out to keep Clarke away. “No, no, no, Clarke I…. I can’t,” and then she’s gone.

 

*******

 

It’s not a move she wanted to make, but the Arkers won’t listen. Neither her mom or Kane is in any place to lead them anyways and they  _ need _ to get back to Arkadia. Before Roan loses his control on the ice nation warriors and they all die. 

 

He was standing the back of the procession, two guards standing loosely at his sides. The expression on his face was unreadable, but the way he winced every time he moved made a pretty good show of how extensively he’d been tortured. “How do you feel?” Kane glanced at the two men assigned to him, giving a very un-chancellor like sneer. “Tired, bored.” Clarke dismisses the other men or at least tries to. The guard whose name reads Banks chuckles at her order, receiving an amused look from his partner. 

 

Kane grabs both their collars, shoving them toward the piles of equipment and supplies Roan had gifted them. “Your disrespect has earned the both of you choice of assignment. Load it,  _ all of it _ , and think twice about how you treat your superiors in the future.” The strangeness of having the man who imprisoned her and had towered over the Ark for so long,  _ or so she thought,  _ follow her so blindly vanished in the sea of tasks to complete, people to treat, and plans to create.

 

It didn’t resurface until they got back, Clarke had forgotten he had essentially assigned himself as her personal guard. Thus, he followed her straight into medical, colliding with Abby and sending them both into a panic. “Marcus?” 

 

He didn’t move didn’t speak, just stared. Taking in the changes in her appearance, namely her eyes. The hollow coldness he saw before is gone,  _ it puzzles him. _ If she’s chipped, why is he staring at the same brown gaze he cherished before the hell of Earth finally broke him.  _ It’s a trick, a trap, she’s not real, _ his mind says and the thoughts die out. Going back to fear and pain, replaying all the things  _ she _ did like a movie reel from hell.

 

Clarke lays a hand on his shoulder and gives a reassuring smile. She beckons Abby forward,  _ closer to him, _ and he backs away instinctively. Clarke moves him forward again and this time Abby backs up. 

 

They play that game for a while, back and forth, back and forth, until Clarke nearly shouts in victory when she gets them at arm’s length. “See, no one’s going to hurt you,  _ either of you,”  _ and then Clarke places their hands in one another and everything collapses.

 

Kane jumps back like the touch burned him, and his cry of pain makes Abby think it did. He’s so unprepared for the wave of  _ agony  _ that passes over him he falls to the floor, breathing hard, the every muscle in his body tensing and adding to his pain.

 

Clarke is forced to use the Reaper sticks,  _ on both of them, _ wincing as the needle pierces her mother’s skin.

 

*******

 

“I need your help.” Clarke barges into Raven’s workstation, the two unconscious Chancellors being carried in behind her. Raven eyes them, looking wary. Abby’s her friend and even though Clarke’s her daughter. She left and didn’t consider what would happen to everyone else if she did. 

 

Clarke ignores the distrust in her gaze and explains from the beginning what the hell was going on. By the time Clarke finished, Marcus had woken up, a bit calmer but still frazzled. Raven’s presence scared him more than Abby’s,  _ she was A.L.I.E.’s strongest convert, she’s dangerous, _ the treacherous parts of his mind whisper, putting him on high alert. They didn’t know he was awake and listening,  _ he wanted it to stay that way. _

 

“She doesn’t remember any of it….. All that time,  _ nearly a week. _ All the things the chip made her do,  _ it’s all gone. _ ”

 

“What  _ did  _ happen between them?”

“I don’t know, she broke down when I asked about it….. You said the EMP doesn’t affect our bodies right.” 

 

“Yeah, but……”

 

“But  _ what Raven?” _

 

_ “ _ But the chip it can have some…. lasting effects.” 

 

“ _ You told me the EMP was perfectly safe!” _

 

_ “ _ I thought it was! This isn’t exactly my fault if you hadn’t left maybe Abby wouldn’t have been so hopeless she took the damn chip!” 

 

“ _ She took the chip to save your life!” _

 

“How would you know! She doesn’t even remember why she did it!” Raven pauses before adding onto her statement. “We can argue about this later, how do we help them?”

 

“We’ll need to see what’s going happening to their brains, but we don’t have the kind of equipment for that, with the right materials do you think you could build something?”

 

“No, but I know just the place.”  _ Escape, _ his mind says, but the soft weight of Abby leaning on him in her sleep stops him. It feels  _ warm, _ in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Marcus wants to wrap his arms around her and forget everything….. But he can’t and the longer she stays touching him the stronger the pains of his body grow until he’s screaming and jumping out of his chore. Screaming and clutching at his head to stop the voices. 


	5. This Thing

_ He’s in agony, _ her touch burns him. Her skin a poison that brings him a deeper pain than ever before.  _ She’s pure unfiltered evil. _ He can’t feel the screams ripping from his throat as every insidious memory, regret and cause for private tortured cries break the surface of his conscious.  _ “Sedate him! _ ” Clarke screams at the guards, who drag a writhing Chancellor Kane a short distance before it becomes too much and he goes limp in their arms. 

 

Abby watches in horror as Marcus passes out from the extreme pain she’d inflicted upon his body. “Mom…. Mom  _ no,  _ you didn’t do this, there’s something else going on,  _ promise me you won’t blame yourself.” _  Clarke is pleading, something she hasn’t heard in her daughter's voice since the airlock on the day a piece of her soul drifted into space. “Doc, listen to me”, Raven takes both of her hands, hold them tight. Refusing to let her shy away. Once Abby stops shaking from the contact and her eyes open, glistening with tears, Raven speaks. “I’m going to fix him,  _ I promise you  _ I’ll find out what’s going on _ ,  _ but you gotta promise you won’t go off the deep end okay? I need you to stay right here with us,  _ physically and emotionally. _ ”  Abby shivers in her arms, letting out the last of her panic. “Can you do that for me? Just this once if I promise to get him back?” She nods weakly, unsure if the soft tones in her voice make her feel like she’s being talked down to or comforted. “Good, now let's go find out what the hell is wrong with Kane’s brain,” Clarke adds, rubbing a hand up and down her mother’s back. Clarke makes noises of disagreement as she motions for that specific train of thought to end, but it’s too late as the worlds fall out of Raven’s mouth with ease. “What  _ did _ happen between you guys anyway?” Abby trembles slightly, taking multiple deep yet shaky breaths. “Fix him first, then  _ maybe _ I’ll tell you.” There was a shaky firmness to the words, but Clarke could still tell she fighting against waves of panic. You didn’t have to be her daughter to tell, you just had to know what she wore around her neck every day and the why behind it. Anytime she was scared, anxious or just too deep in her thoughts she would hold tightly to one of the last pieces she had of the man she loved.  _ Or as Clarke perceived it, the man she loved would always equate to her father.  _ Her distress was obvious in the white-knuckle grip she had on the elegant yet simple band resting on her chest. 

 

Clarke leads them out of the room, Abby, and Raven a few steps behind. Clarke was focused on fixing the Chancellor as much for her mother’s happiness,  _ whatever Kane had to do with that,  _ as to free herself back into the world of Polis and the grounders. She’d founder her sanctuary among the trees and the secrets they held. 

 

If her mother were to slowly lose all her memories and Clarke- as much as she loved her mother -couldn’t stand being confined to camp. Kane was the only one she trusted to protect her,  _ at least try. _ If she wanted to jump in front of an angry Rockline warrior to save Murphy’s ass, there was nothing  _ anyone  _ could say or do to stop her. Kane would at least be half mad with worry and demand she sees Jackson. 

 

It struck her then, as she strides down the hallway. Ready to journey to wherever Raven thought could help them,  _ that she trusts him. _ Not for the fact he’s started blindly following her around like a lost puppy, eager to please, which again is strange in itself, but for the fact he’s proven himself time and time again. By forging peace with the Grounders, supporting her and the rest of the hundred,  _ he’s given everything for this camp. _ And yes there will always be that bitter spark of resentment towards the man who arrested her father and led him to his death. This camp needs him and Abby needs him, that means he needs to get better _ , and fast. _

 

So she picks up her pace, observing as the guards place the unconscious man into the rover and as Raven punches a location into the system. Octavia bounds into the rover, a full pack slung over her back, Lincoln not far behind. “We’re coming with and before you say anything-”

 

“Ok.”

 

“He’s been the father I wish I had when my own refused to acknowledge the fact that I even existed.” Everyone looks at her wearing shocked expressions, Octavia Blake was not one to let loose her feelings. Clarke could faintly hear Murphy chuckling from the front seat as well as the sound of Raven smacking him over the head. 

 

Lincoln lays a hand on the girl's shoulder and she melts into his side. Clarke can see the way she stares at Kane’s limp body jostling in the stretcher. Octavia pulls the blanket up around him more in a movement full of ease, Clarke realizes _ that’s not the first time she’s done this. _

 

_ What doesn’t she know about Kane? _

 

*******

 

In his dream he stands in a wide street…. but it was empty. Nothing but the whistling of the wind and for some reason, it displeased him.  _ So they change, _ morphing into a serene forest, alive and beautiful.

 

The changing worlds, fitted to each person's needs, sounded scarily like the wild grounder tales of their time in the COL, he’d heard while tucked into a corner of the makeshift mess hall they’d set up in Polis. It made him feel off, even in the place he felt safest. Then that frosted voice Raven had unknowingly burned into his mind for eternity spoke his name. His entire body shivered. 

 

_ “Hello, Marcus.”  _ He panicked and took off running through endless trees, pushing his body to its limits. It felt like she was and wasn’t inside him at the same time, only furthering his disorientation. 

 

On one hand,  _ he could see her,  _ and he was in the landscape.

 

On the other hand, he had nearly all his memories, and he could feel the stab of pain as something blunt knocked against his head. Toppling him to the ground. He’s in a clearing with a face full of dirt and leaves. Nothing that could’ve hit him anywhere in sight. This wasn’t a dream, he was hallucinating, and the red-clad maker of this nightmare was standing in front of him, _studying._ “You are attempting to escape, _why?”_ He shakes his head violently, getting up and ready to bolt if need be. “I-I don’t want to be here, _I have to get back._ ” The figure tilts her head, observing the images flashing through his mind. “Why?” Marcus knows the answer but each time he tries to pull her name from his lips or her image from his mind it disappears. Replaced with the bite of a knife as is slides deep into your most sensitive skin. 

 

Marcus _ , the real Marcus _ , wakes up in a cold sweat. Frantically clawing at the burning and pulsing spot near the base of his neck. Lincoln and Ryker are forced to restrain him as angry red and slightly bleeding scratch marks begin to mar his skin. Speaking to no one, in particular, to  _ ‘get this thing out of my head’.  _ Making Raven glance back at him with a very pained expression.“Kane,” a strange but familiar voice soothes. A cold damp rag runs across his forehead. “Abby, I think he has a fever.” Her mother just sits huddled in the corner, doing the breathing exercises Harper taught her, unaware of the hurt and confused way she looks between her and Kane. “I promise you he’ll be okay, we just need to Raven to wherever she’s going.”

 

*******

 

They stand in front of the large door, Ryker holding tightly to Kane’s bonds. For some reason, the moment they stepped foot onto the sandy beach, he’d been on edge. Looking exactly the caged animal he must feel like with his arms bound to his torso.  _ ‘It’s for his own safety,’ _ she’d repeated a thousand times to nearly everyone since the moment she slipped the rough nylon rope from her pack. But the more he thrashed in the presence of this strange building, the more she felt like she’d done the right thing. 

 

Raven turns to them, a new and bright smile on her face,  _ almost proud. _ “Welcome to the birthplace of Becca Pramheda, the first commander.”

 

 *


	6. A price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo *looks nervously from me to you* I'm back from a trip, whipped this puppy up on the ride back home, my apologies for being so lax with all this buuutttt, I don't travel often and I take the chance when it presents itself.

It took Lincoln and Ryker nearly  _ carrying _ Kane to get him into the building. It was like the very stone he stood on caused him discomfort. They’re all on edge,  _ this is where the end of the world was born. _

 

Clarke at the most is just a tad bit put off, not by her surroundings, but by the way her mother stares at the silver watch on her wrist.  _ Like she doesn’t know whose it is.  _ She shakes the thoughts from her head, focusing on the introduction Raven gives on all the machines and Becca’s brief history with them. Her chip-heightened mind breezing through the complicated list with ease. 

 

Kane’s sitting on one of the padded cots, Octavia gently untying him. He’d thrashed so much it’d left marks even through the thick canvas of his jacket. Clarke could feel the burning glare Octavia bore into her skull upon seeing them. She’d apologize later when everything was said and done and everyone was near some semblance of normal. “So, where do we start?” Harper asks, radiating concern in thick waves. Clarke thinks for a moment, long and hard, nearly wholly unsure of what the best course of action actually is. She figures that it couldn’t hurt to test for  _ everything. _ “I’d say running some basic blood tests first would be good, see if somebody slipped them anything.” Harper nods, accepting the answer and going to sit by Kane. Raven is huddled with Abby, looking heavily concerned at the way she has seemingly forgotten how to utilize the syringe in her hand.  Or more like it confuses her, the purpose of the long metal cannula, exactly why you’d pierce the skin with such a wicked instrument. “It’s just a blood draw doc, so we can find out what’s wrong with you and Kane.” Abby nods meekly, handing the needle back to Raven and rolling up her sleeve. 

 

It’s strange the way her memories deteriorate, not like anything Clarke’s ever seen before. Unlike an aging individual, losing bits and pieces buried deep in the past. Or someone with short term, possibly induced by a head injury, losing things like what the ate for lunch last week or the whoever was next on the guard shift. And it clearly wasn’t amnesia, she hadn’t forgotten all and still responded to her name. Whatever it was, only took a few things at a time, randomly, long or short-term. It was unnatural, yet didn’t seem purposeful, just confusing and incredibly disheartening. another weight on her shoulders, another voice whisper if’s and maybe’s placing her at fault. She feels the loss of every memory, takes is straight to heat.  _ She will fix this. _

 

*******

 

He’s back in the forest, surrounded by luscious greens and the sweet, distinct scent of natural beauty. This place feels lighter,  _ free. _ Not buried under the weight of death war and a genocidal computer chip. He can feel it changing, he can feel  _ her _ too but ignores it. Watching how the trees and underbrush slowly, almost imperceptibly fade away. He sits for what could be hours, watching his forest chip away, genuinely curious as to what would take its place. At some point, he’d fallen asleep, reclined back on the soft grasses. Grasses that were nowhere to be found.

 

_ He was in a bed, a real bed covered in a plush white comforter. _

 

_ Inside a room with four walls, not made of metal, or stone, or wood.  _

 

_ The floors were a rich brown, hardwood and cool under his bare feet.  _

 

That’s when he looked at himself, taking in the sight of a body not bound in tattered sometimes burnt, muddy and probably bloody rags. A poor excuse for clothing next to the soft black shorts and deep blue shirt that fit him perfectly. He was once again genuinely intrigued, gone was the blanket fear and foreboding he always carried when something seemingly good was presented to him. 

 

He explored further, opening the door and peeking his head out to find a few more doors and a flight of stairs. The first door led to another bedroom, smaller than the one he’d woken up in but furnished much the same. He found two more rooms like that, but each had their own seemingly  _ personal _ touches. An easel and fine paints took up the corner of one, almost glowing blue butterflies were scattered on the walls of another. Finally, a full wall bookcase of any mythological book he could think of and more stood in the last.  _ People belonged there, _ but there was a stillness to the house that told him he was the only one inside. 

 

The stairs were next and he took each one slowly. Savoring the feel of the cool darkly colored wood beneath his feet. He got halfway down before the swoosh of fabric startled him half to death. “You like it here.” _ She  _ says, barely even a question. He nods quick enough to surprise him. Not sure when he consented for that action. “It can be your’s, both of your’s, but not yet.” The smile drains from his face as questions flood his mind, he wants to ask them all but never gets the chance. In a flash, the house disappears and he’s back. 

 

Back in his ripped and stained guard’s uniform, not soft sleepwear. Back on the hard metal cot instead of a plush and cushiony mattress. In its place was Bellamy, Octavia and Clarke, and one very large needle about to pierce his skin. He jerks, pulling away from it and hurling himself nearly off the cot. Bellamy’s grip tightens on his arm and Octavia makes a lame attempt at hushing him.  _ She’s  _ there again, standing behind his shoulder and commanding his attention. “Resist,” she compels, and he does. Twisting and writhing in the grip that desperately tries to hold him. “He’s afraid of needles,” Abby says blankly like it wasn’t odd that a man as  _ hardened  _ as Kane was clearly terrified of a thing as small as a needle. 

 

A part of him wants to keep resisting, the part that wants to go back to that house with its bright and clean feeling. Get to the unexplored bottom half and uncover all the wonders it holds. The basic, wholly human and naturally shaped part of him wants to feel safe, to be clean, wants a life that only existed before the bombs. There in that house, tucked away forever. 

 

The rest of him though, the part that’s been more and more present since reaching the ground. Tells him to give in, to get  _ her _ out of his mind. It’s a war between his basic human wants and sheer stubbornness, only swayed by the glint of a silver watch on one Doctor Abigail Griffin’s wrist.

 

Clarke can see something flash in Kane’s eyes. She doesn’t catch where he was looking when it happened, but she knows it happens. Things happen lightning fast after that. His body goes limp first before a horrible scream rips from his throat. A sound only made by someone in unimaginable pain. There’s just enough time for his wrists and ankles to be bound to the bars before the convulsions start. 

 

Once, twice,  _ three times, _ his back arches completely off the sheets. His binds digging into the skin and breaking it, then….. _ Silence. _ He doesn’t move, doesn’t scream, and doesn’t resist as Clarke seizes the chance to get the blood she needs from his exposed forearm. 

 

Octavia is first to try and untie him but jumps back when his eyes snap open. An inhuman glint trapped inside them. “If I fight, I die. Salvation comes at a price.” The words leave his mouth, but the voice his out of place, cold, and all too familiar.


	7. It's time

“ _She’s back,_ ” Raven mutters, looking like she’s going to faint. Few in their group gasp and hold tight to the person nearest. Other’s look around worried and confused. “Not possible, I pulled the-”

 

“The kill switch was fake, I can _feel_ her. I knew something was off the second the guard dragged him into engineering.” Abby’s face falls something dark and sinister stirring inside the glassy orbs. Something that even set off something in _Clarke._ Some deep sense of foreboding she hadn’t felt since her first meeting with Anya on the brink of war. “Use the EMP on him, it worked with the others,” Bellamy suggests, looking at Raven with something akin to desperation. “I’m going to test the blood samples,” Abby blurts, louder than intended making her duck her head and sneak off to the top deck of the lab. “Raven, can you scrounge parts for a device?” The mechanic gives a dumb look, rolling her eyes and walking off in a different direction. Coming back a few minutes later with a device similar to a defibrillator. “I think I’m in love, this place has everything,” Raven places a theatrical hand over her heart and sighing. “Just get on with it Rae, the quicker we fix him the quicker……”  A new strange feeling washes over her as Bellamy carefully clips the connectors around Kane’s wrists, wires protruding from the cuffs in an eerily similar way to the machine Sinclair had cooked up to get Raven back.

 

In favor of getting this over with, Clarke shakes the feeling off, nodding to Raven to get on with it. There’s the sound of crackling electricity a slight whimper and then silence. Bellamy hands her the scalpel without looking, just dropping it in her palm and walking away. _She’ll have to ask him about that later, the relationship between the Kane’s and the Blake’s._

 

Her incision is neat, smaller than the last one because the small sound of protest Octavia makes as crimson flows slowly out of; yet in counter to everything Clarke had expected. No silver, _just red._

 

No silver.

 

No remnants of the chip.

 

No pathway to consciousness.

 

_Nothing._

 

Just blood.

 

Wasted, O negative streaking down his neck and staining his shirt. “Clarke,” Bellamy hisses in a strained tone, seeing the same thing she’s seeing and being the only other one to understand what it means.

 

*******

 

 _I’m back,_ is Marcus’ first thought, waking up in those luxurious silk sheets. The smile that blossoms his face is so rare and true and genuinely happy that he surprises himself. Bounding out of that amazing bed and nearly running down the stairs, _like a child on Christmas._ He’d read about that once, loved everything about the holiday until his childish fantasies fell through the cracks of reality.

 

The rest of the house exceeds his expectations.

 

After years on the Ark, you’d think he’d never want to see anything metal in his living space ever again. You’d also think that a transitional generation like his wouldn’t ever set foot on solid Earth but you’re wrong on both accounts.

 

There are perfect amounts of everything, from the natural grained woods to the dark steels. The crisp whites and occasional pop of color reminded him of her.

 

He did a double take, unsure of letting his mind wander to thoughts of her. Each time he did there was _pain._ With his head still between his hands Marcus slowly opened his eyes, expecting a great deal of pain.

 

_Nothing._

 

He lets go of more control, drifting further into the ocean that is Abigail Griffin.

 

_Nothing._

 

He goes further, exploring thoughts he’s had plenty of times but tried not to dwell on. Things decisively not _friendly_ but oh so enticing.

 

He makes a contented little sound, edging dangerously close to a moan as bliss fills his mind.

 

The feelings evolve like she’s there with him. He can feel a presence but as he digs further into the emotions it brings forth the fantasies crash.

 

_It’s not Abby._

 

The red swishing skirts don’t startle him anymore, he just smiles and tilts his head. “You are ready,” a statement and not a question. _He is ready._ “It’s time.” Marcus nods, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Submitting to the real world once more.

 

_You can take her pain away, make her whole again._

_You can be happy, together._

 

_Safe, happy, together._

 

_Convince her._

 

*******

 

Marcus jolts upwards, waking up to a searing pain in his neck gasping and sputtering as it knocks the breath from his chest. “Where’s Abby?” Are the first words to slip past his lips, breathless and strained. “Yup, he’s back,” Raven announces, chuckling and walking away. Strong arms wrap around his torso, nearly choking him. Octavia _._

 

 _Not yet,_ the voice whispers. So he hugs her back, petting her hair like always. “I missed you,” she says smiling up at him and detaching from his arms. “Missed you too Tavia, it’s good to be back.” There’s a small noise and his eyes snap up, landing on one very frustrated looking Abby. Octavia nudges his side and gives him a knowing look.

 

She doesn’t protest when he takes her hand and begins to lead them down a dark hallway. Just looks cautious, probably afraid she’ll throw him into another fit.

 

The kiss is unexpected, and she nearly wrenches away in pure shock. _The last time her lips touch his, the last time she_ touched _him._

 

Except there is no A.I controlling her, and he clearly wants this. _She melts,_ running her hands up his chest and clasping them behind his neck. His own trailing up and down her back as his tongue gently parts her lips, deepening the kiss. His fingers glide through her hair, untangling the soft strands and cupping the back of her neck, drawing her closer.

 

She feels a searing pain in her neck before the feeling of cool silk envelopes her. Strong arms surround her, lips pressing feather light kisses along the skin of her neck. Marcus Kane surrounds her, lying in the softest bed she’s ever slept on. Surrounded by things you only saw in archived pictures of Earth before the bombs.

 

“Morning,” she mumbles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Marcus just kisses her deeply rolling her body on top of his to wrap his arms fully around her petite frame.

  



	8. Giving Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a few days, once the tissue repairs itself, her mother with have a similar mark. “Get the stretchers.” Is all she can say before retiring to her room. Overcome with a sense of hopelessness like never before

Abby’s incredibly glad she decided to take the late shift at the hospital. It means she has the whole morning and part of the day to just _relax._ Well, maybe relax isn’t quite the word for it.

 

While they’re distracted, it’s easy for Alie to fabricate identities for them. Memories and occupations just _slip_ into their minds and become real.

 

Abby was Marcus’ first and only love, he proposed three days after they both graduated college and they were married by the end of the year.

 

There was no Ark, no Jake, no Clarke ( It was much too great of a risk to implement any thoughts involving the blonde before she was saved). Nothing connecting her to her past life because well…. She simply didn’t have one. It had always been this way. Waking up in his arms, sharing this home.

 

This life did have similarities though. Abby’s core need to help and heal was channeled into her employment at the hospital. Treating the mild to severe injuries of every person in the city.

 

_This city was much more real, you could still feel pain and minor loss but global war was impossible. Death was real, but only in a sense. One who dies in the city moves on to a different one with a new life but the same core values and persona._

 

Marcus Kane had no recollection of the weight Ark and Earth life had left on his shoulders. There was no culling, no floatings, no crushing guilt. Instead, Marcus spent his time working at the library, making his home between the towering wooden shelves.

 

He’d always loved the smell of books; old ones, new ones, ones you’ve read hundreds of times. It was the perfect place to make a career. He didn’t worry about money, there was no concept of currency. People received what they needed with no issues as there was no concept of greed.

 

_Alie had smoothed out as many human imperfections as she could to further stabilize her environment._

 

He collapses sweaty and spent on top of her body. His solid weight surrounding her protectively. It was peace at last, _peace from what?_ Abby didn’t know. Marcus was the only one with memories, the only one who remembered the pain and suffering. It’s what kept him there, in that house cradled gently by his wife. This was his safe place, but it wasn’t full yet.

 

*******

 

“They’ve been gone a long time. What’s going on?” Octavia asks. She hadn’t stopped pacing ever since Kane jumped from his cot and ran off in search of her mother. It was getting a bit annoying. “I’m it’s fine, he’s better what else-”

 

Before Clarke can finish, there’s an undignified shriek that echoes from the hallway. Bellamy calls her name in a strained tone and the ease of relief drains from her body like blood from a wound. Quick and unstoppable.

 

Two bodies lay crumpled in that dark hallway, limbs tangled and almost entwined. The larger form cradles the smaller one, almost protectively until she notices the blood streaking his hand.

 

Her hand shoots to the back of her neck, feeling the raised patch of skin near the base of her neck. In a few days, once the tissue repairs itself, her mother with have a similar mark. “Get the stretchers.” Is all she can say before retiring to her room. Overcome with a sense of hopelessness like never before.

 

*******

 

 **“** Clarke, it’s been nearly an hour. Are you going to come out and tell us what the hell is going on.” When the silence persists, Raven knocks again louder and more persistent. “Clarkey this isn’t the time for isolation, the Blakes are going insane and I can’t handle it anymore.” All she gets is more silence, groaning she slips out the little lock pick kit she always has and easily unlocks the door.  

 

Clarke sits in the corner of the bed staring blankly at the wall. “Hey _Wanheda_ where are you?” Nothing. Raven grabs Clarke by the shoulders and gently shakes her until she can see Clarke’s vision go back into focus. “I got brain scans and you're the only one who speaks that language, so get up.”

 

Both Blakes stare at the screen, trying to decipher what the flickering images and black spots mean. “That part right there looks weird, do you think that’s it?”

 

“I mean they both have it so I can’t say for certain.” Octavia groans, rubbing her hands down her face. “You haven’t come up with-”

 

“I’ve got her!” Raven calls from the hallway. Clarke following wordlessly behind, eyes set in hollow determination. Clarke stares, just stares. Not even a flicker of emotion, good or bad, passing on her features. “You were right it’s her, but she’s untouchable.”

 

“What do you mean she’s untouchable. We can’t just _do nothing!”_  Octavia shouts, her anger showing right through in the way she clenches her fists. Bellamy’s head hangs and Harper lets go of silent tears. Raven, well she wouldn’t know _what_ Raven’s thinking. Her face is blank and unreadable. “You think I’m _giving up!”_ Clarke snaps, whipping around face to face with Octavia. “You think I’d just _give up_ on my own mother!” Octavia steps closer, their noses barely and inch from touching. “Well you disappeared for months even though you knew it would destroy her, _which it did,_ so yeah that’s what I’m thinking!” Clarke reels as Octavia’s words hit their mark with a viscous force. “You don’t understand-”

 

“Oh, I think I do. Bell pulled that lever too, but he didn’t run away. He didn’t hide. _He didn’t give up.”_  Clarke turns away from her, focusing back on the scans. Scrutinizing them. Running over every possible scenario and its chance of success. When she sees it, a strange mix of horror and elation washes over her. “T-there is one thing but….” turning away from the screen and to the motionless forms of her mother and Kane, Clarke lets her tears fall. Coming up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her mother’s ear. “ _But what?”_ Octavia snaps, still fuming with residual anger.  “We can only save her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me I have a plan.


	9. We have to go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Raven, talk to me….t-there’s got to be something more we can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I got double chapters out, I'm on the grind to finish up all these stories so I can start pushing out all the new ones I have planned. I've dubbed it "the great summer cleanup" / "Me getting my shit together."

“We can only save her.”  Octavia crumples, anger fading to pain. “What do you mean  _ we can only save her _ , they’re in the same condition.” She hates the look in Bellamy’s eyes. The desperate way he looks at his mentor and then back to her  _ begging  _ for a better answer. “I’m sorry,” is all she says, leaning down to kiss her mother’s forehead and sitting herself in a corner. A closed off expression on her face.

 

“Raven, talk to me….t-there’s got to be something more we can do.” Raven takes a deep breath, steeling herself. Ready to give the facts, facts are things you can trust. Their plain and simple and easier to deliver,  _ most of the time.  _ “If we can wake Abby up we can wake Kane up. They’ve got the same thing inside their head.” 

 

“It’s not in the same place though,” she says, getting up to point at the scans. Suddenly able to understand them. “If you look here, you can see Kane’s is almost _buried_ in the tissue. Abby’s, and I can assume this is due to the time infected, isn’t nestled at on. In fact, it’s in a very reachable spot. Jackson would probably, with a little help, be able to get it out with no lasting repercussions.” Octavia slumps in the corner huddled next to Harper. Both looking up at Kane. “Then take his out too, make Jackson take it out, get _someone_ to do it.” Bellamy urges. "If we do that he'll be completely crippled. He won't be able to eat, dress himself, bathe. None of it, hell we don't even know if he'll be able to talk. He'll be miserable and probably end up kicking his own bucket within a week." 

 

“What do you mean  _ kicking his own bucket?” _ Raven sighs deep and heavy, looking between Clarke and Octavia. Battling her own fear of losing the only maternal figure she's ever had. "What do you think it means.” Bellamy ducks his head, the horror of realization striking him once more. “Any way we do this, someone's going to get hurt.....I think a little happiness is what they deserve."

 

“How can there be happiness in this for  _ anyone _ , they’re robots,” Harper says, glaring at the mechanic. “I was pretty damn happy in there for a while, I’d like to think they are too,” she says with a frown, voice lowering to a deeply somber tone. “We should just wake them up, take it out.”

 

“You don’t know what it’s like to have a part of you that’s useless, let alone all of you. Removing it would cripple him completely. He wouldn’t even be able to lift a spoon let alone hold a rifle. We’d bring her back, make her think it’s okay. Then force her to watch Kane kill himself, because trust me when I tell you that’s exactly what’ll happen. He’s strong, but not  _ that _ strong.”

 

“You’re not a doctor how do you-”

  
  


“She’s right” Clarke interjects, startling them all. “The thing is wrapped around his spinal cord, it’d be impossible to remove without destroying his nervous system.” The sound of boots slapping on concrete reaches them a second before Murphy bursts into the lab, radio clipped to his belt. “We need to go.” 

 

“ _ What?” _ Bellamy barks and Murphy raises his hands in defense. “Camp just radioed, things have gone to shit. The people are asking for the Chancellors and the Miller’s are struggling to keep the peace.  _ We need to go. _ ” Octavia tries to protest but one look from Bellamy and she’s silenced, packing her things and squeezing Kane’s hand one last time.

 

Murphy and Bellamy gently ease Kane onto a stretcher while Raven and Clarke do the same with Abby, walking out of the lab with no solutions and infinite questions.

 

It’s a heavy, silent ride back to camp. Everyone weighed down by 4 days of  _ nothing. _

 

*******

 

Coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his torso, Abby places a small kiss on his temple. Looking down at the newspaper in his hands. “Who’s coming in today?” One of the perks of being a librarian was that Marcus had a chance to interact with the local youth. Reading them stories, helping them learn to read on their own and helping them to pick out a book they could both enjoy and understand. He always came home with stories of his own that one of his classes had told him or something crazy a student had done. “Third graders,” Abby smiled brightly, not that he’d ever tell them, but his third graders were his favorite. They were eager to learn and never caused much trouble. “Hmm, that’ll be fun.” Marcus' eyes were dark when he turned to face her, something stirring in the depths that made her heart clench. “I think I have something even  _ better _ we could do.” Laughing and deciding to play along with his game Abby walks around the chair to slide into his lap. “Oh yeah, and what would that be?” Marcus groans, pulling her shirt off to bury his nose in the valley between her breasts, nuzzling deep and nipping at the creamy skin. Her hands tangle in his hair, carding through the soft dark locks and guiding him until he sucks one rosy nipple into his mouth. She tugs at his own shirt, needing the skin to skin contact, wanting to feel the warmth of his sculpted torso. Marcus sucks particularly hard, undoubtedly leaving a bright purple mark and releasing a small whimper. 

 

Feeling his length pressing into her she rocks against him and he falters. Overcome by the unexpected friction and pleasure. Marcus moves his mouth up her chest, peppering her throat and collarbone in nips and kisses. Trailing up until he can press his lips to hers, moaning into her mouth when her tongue slips past his lips. Breathing heavily and pressing her lips to his pulse point, feeling his erratic heartbeat pounding beneath the skin she whispers. “I have to be at work eventually.” He growls and picks her up, laying her on the couch and covering her body with his. “It can wait.”


	10. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby was ecstatic, for her it had felt like an eternity since she’d seen her daughter. 
> 
> And she was finally coming home.

“What do we tell them?” Nathan prods, standing at Jackson’s side in an attempt to comfort him. The young doctor had expected a smiling Abby to walk back into camp better than ever. The devastated look on his face when she was laid on a cot in medical was enough to crush anybody.Now the look on his face when Clarke explained that she’d been chipped could only be described as agony. “Nothing.”

 

“What do you-” Clarke holds up a hand, stopping the younger Miller in his tracks. “Telling them the AI they thought they were safe from is back and we have no idea how to stop it will start anarchy. Do you  _ really _ want that.” Nathan shakes his head, lacing his fingers with Jackson’s. “That means we lie, doesn’t it?” Clarke nods, furrowing her brow and searching for a believable lie. “Sergeant Miller, I'd like you to announce that our Chancellors are out of commission due to complications from the EMP and traumatic injuries. Is that understood.” You can see how the senior officer hesitates, unused to being ordered around by a, well  _ a child  _ no older than his own, but one look at his unconscious commander and he knows that the only way to help them,  _ both of them, _ is to buy time. “Yes Ma’am, I’ll organize an announcement.” A few minutes later, the emergency warning system sounds with an alert to the gathering. Mandatory attendance. “What do we do now Griff?”

a

“Search him, see if he has n more chips. We don’t want him waking up and infecting anyone else.” They check his pockets, inside his shoes, and even under his shirt without finding anything other than some casings. It’s not until Clarke picks up one of the magazines strapped to his belt and shakes it do they find any. They spill out onto the floor like little black beans, clattering, and plinking and making everyone jump back to avoid touching them. “He could’ve infected all of Arkadia with that.”  

 

“No shit Murphy.Raven punches him in the arm. He flinches and rubs the sore spot before bending down to pick one up. When it doesn’t immediately burrow itself under John’s skin everyone lets out a deep breath. “It-it looks just like the flame.” Clarke scrambles to pick one up, pulling out the box that holds the last connection to the other half of her soul. “It does.”

 

“That’s freaky.”

 

“What’d you expect it to look like Murphy,  _ a horse’s ass?” _ The rest of the group squabbles and gasps while Clarke just stares, holding the flame and the chip side by side. The only physical difference is the color, the emotional difference is everything.

 

One is death, destruction, the loss of her mother.

 

The other is hope, love, an entire race of people,  _ her home. _ “I need you to put me under.” Everyone halts, turning to her with blank stares. “What? Octavia & Murphy.

 

“Clarke no.” Raven.

 

“Absolutely not.” Bellamy.

 

“It’s too dangerous.” Nate.

 

“Clarke your mother-” She stops Jackson there, turning with the unbreakable Griffin determination locked in her eyes. “My mother essentially no longer exists, this is either my only chance to save her or see her. With a few calculations, we can get a read on exactly how long I can be in there before it’s impossible to cut it out of my head. I’m doing this, nothing you say can change my mind.” Bellamy comes up, Octavia not far behind, both with dead set looks. “We’re coming with you.”

 

“Nothing I say can change your mind I’m guessing?” Bellamy smiles that warm one that does a great deal to calm her racing mind. “Right on the nose princess.” Octavia gives a grim nod and ties her hair up, exposing her neck. “Let’s do this.” Octavia and Bellamy both pick up a chip holding it in their palms, Clarke presses her own chip right over her original mark. 

 

The pain only lasts a second, the darkness seems eternal. 

 

*******

 

The cold wind howls outside the library doors, while Marcus sits behind his old wooden desk with his favorite book,  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ . Class had gone as he expected, a breeze. The kids were great, listening attentively and asking constructive questions. He especially liked the activity where each child got the chance to write and illustrate their own short story. He smiled at the memory and takes a sip of his tea just as the bell rings, signaling another entry into the building. Figuring it’s just one of his coworkers having forgotten something, as it is 30 to closing, he doesn’t turn around. “Mr.Kane, I seem to be having trouble selecting some new material,  _ any suggestions.” _ He lowers the book and his eyes land on a woman in scrubs.  _ Not just any woman though. _ “That would depend on if you're looking for something informational or more  _ personal.” _

 

“Definitely personal,” she hums leading him into a row of shelves by the hand. “Well, I don’t know your taste but I gave very high marks to this-” She silences him with a kiss and the book drops forgotten to the ground. She pulls his lower lip between hers and he moans into his mouth, using the opportunity to deepen the kiss. 

 

The loud slam of a heavy book on desk startles them apart. “Kane, don’t think I don’t know  _ exactly _ what you're doing, so I’ll just kindly ask you to proceed later. I’d like to be at your place before sundown and I can’t leave until you lock up.” Marcus hid a laugh in the soft skin of Abby’s neck. His assistant, and really only other coworker that actually showed up, Lexa had easily integrated herself into their ever growing family when Clarke had come to visit him at work. The two had hit it off instantly and were talking like old friends in the time it took him to brew a pot of coffee. 

 

Clarke had finally finished up her last class of the semester and was coming home for break. Abby was ecstatic, for her it had felt like an eternity since she’d seen her daughter. 

 

_ And she was finally coming home.  _


	11. Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter.

If it’s a trick,  _ it’s a damn good one. _ The nightblood she thinks, residual nightblood still coursing through her veins. It must be why she can remember everything while also processing the memories A.L.I.E. feeds into her mind. Some of it’s spotty but still fills her with a kind of comforting warmth she’s never felt.  _ It’s addictive, _ the sensation of safety. After so long fighting just to keep her heart beating and lungs working it’s overwhelming relief. 

 

She’s been staring at the white texture of the ceiling for what could’ve been hours. Soaking in the feel the soft purple comforter beneath her. Paints and brushes and pastels and charcoals of every shape size color and width are placed along one long protruding self taking up the length of an entire wall. An easel with a pristine white canvas occupy the corner. The wall her bed, because this is  _ her  _ room she can feel it, faces is done up with a breathtaking starscape. There’s a knock on the door and she jolts her out of her mind. The soft rap sounds again and she calls out to the person beyond. “Clarke, they’ll be home soon and Abby said we had some stuff to set out before they got here.”  _ They, _ her parents,  _ plural, two, both of them. _ It wasn’t a displeasing thought, it was just strange. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a second. Get the nerd out of his cave would ya.” Clarke laughed, Bellamy practically lived in stacks upon stacks of books. It was a trait he shared very dearly with his father. He was even planning on picking up a shift at the library. Their love of books was unparalleled and it was something all three women mercilessly teased them for. She walks to the end of the hallway, bypassing the master bedroom to knock on his door.“Yo nerd boy, there’s a call for your knowledge in all things  _ appetizers.” _ She can hear a snort from the other side of the door before it opens. Revealing shaggy superhero shirt wearing Bellamy with dark rimmed glasses pushed high on his nose. “You summoned me.” He says and she laughs again, pulling him downstairs so they can lay out dinner. 

 

*******

 

**“** I’m nervous.” He didn’t need the verbal affirmation at all, she’d been squeezing his hand tightly the entire ride home, almost in time with her racing heartbeat. “Everything will be alright, Clarke will be overjoyed.” She gives a weak smile and his stomach drops. Her free hand rubs the skin just below the hollow of her throat. Right where her rings used to be. “Marcus I don’t feel good.” Her face was draining of color, like the life was slowly slipping out of her body. He slammed on the brakes, jumping out of the car to throw open her door and scoop her into his arms. When he bursts into the door of their home it’s silent. No cars in the driveway and no sounds of life. He lays her down gently on the couch, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s shivering now, full bodily and pale as snow. 

 

_ She’s leaving. _

 

Not dying,  _ leaving. _ He doesn’t know which is scarier, the thought of her slipping away peacefully or continuing on in another life, unreachable to him but still there. He figures that one would be agony and death would at least give him some closure . There’s a finality to these sort of things, he realizes and the thought alone makes him panic.

 

_ She need _ _ s to stay here, _ he whispers back to the voice in his mind, over and over and over again getting louder and more desperate with each utterance. 

 

_ There is nothing I can do. _

 

He shudders, pulling her shaking and shivering from into the cradle of his arms and onto his lap. Her arms wrap around his neck and her  _ freezing  _ nose rubs against his neck. Trying to capture some of his warmth, but this cold is unlike any other. No amount of heat, not even a raging blaze, could ever restore the warmth to her body. It’s otherworldly and unstoppable. “I-I’m scared,” she shudders, looking up at him with a deep terror that makes him want to cry and scream at the world for taking the only peace he’d ever known. 

 

He ducks his head down to kiss her, sweet and softly trying to breathe life back into her body. His tears fall between their cheeks, wet lines running down the skin leaving hot tracks. “I love you,” he whispers, but she’s already gone.

 

Clarke bursts through the door then, giggling and dragging Lexa by the hand with her. He can distantly hear someone scream,  _ probably Clarke, _ someone tries to take her pulse and someone calls his name. It’s all a rush of white nose, indistinct and hard to decipher. He’s drifting in a state of disbelief and  _ shattering. _

 

It’s awful.

 

*******

 

She wakes up to burning searing pain like her skin is being torn apart. She instantly misses the warmth of her bed,  _ she had been so cold. _ She sits up and the pain intensifies, blacking out her vision and making her sway. Strong hands grip her shoulders and she smiles,  _ Marcus. _

 

When her vision clears and something makes the pain in her neck go away, it becomes very evident that the person holding her up is  _ not _ Marcus. “J-Jackson,” she stammers and he pulls her into a hug, holding tightly and nearly forcing the air from her lungs.“We thought we lost you, with everything that happened and all that stuff with-”

 

“Where’s Marcus,” she cuts him off, looking around the room and feeling panic set in, “He never leaves for the library without having breakfast with me, and  _ oh _ we were supposed to have dinner with Clarke and Lexa tonight, she just got back from finals.” The young doctor looks at her like she spoke gibberish, and it makes her huff in annoyance. “Jackson,  _ where is Marcus.” _ He looks nervously over to the corner where a ragged looking Marcus lay motionless, his chest barely rising to breath. She gasps and curls in on herself as the memories come back.

 

Every horrible thing that has transpired since reaching the ground, all the pain, the suffering,  _ everything. _ It bombards her at once, overloading her senses and reducing her to a crying whimpering mess.

 

*******

 

Their impromptu council has voted,  _ there’s nothing she can do to stop this. _ Delay it maybe, give her mother some more time with him, but the decision's been made. 

 

_ Marcus Kane is to be terminated for the good of the public and for the survival of mankind. _

 

“Mom, why don’t you go get something from the mess I’m sure you’re hungry,” Clarke tries, unable to hide the pleading in her tone.  _ She shouldn’t be here for this. _ “I’m fine, he needs me.”

 

“ _ No, _ I really think you should go to the mess.”

 

“I’m not going to-”

 

“ _ Please, please,  _ just go Mom. I- you can’t….just  _ please.”  _ Tears begin to slip down her cheeks, she’s begging her,  _ she can’t be here for this, she just can’t. _ “Clarke, what on Earth-” She watches how her mother’s eyes drift down to the syringe in her hand.  _ Potassium, if he has to die it’s going to be quick. “ _ Get away from him,” she snarls and the words strike her, almost making her double over.

 

She doesn’t want to do this.  _ She’s only loved two men and you killed both of them,  _ her mind screams as more tears streamed down her face. “Please, I don’t want to do this, I really don’t it’s just….he….he’s too dangerous he almost killed someone. We…. I…. _ please.” _

 

“You can’t do that to him, Clarke, _you just can’t._ He loves me, _both of us,_ _I_ love him, Clarke, you can’t do this.” She tries to pull her into a hug but Abby steps back defensively, shielding Kane with her body. “I won’t allow you to do this.” 

 

Clarke steels herself and sets the syringe on the metal tray next to Kane’s bed. “If you won’t let me, then you’re going to have to do it yourself. I’m sorry.” She walks away, leaving the person she loves most with a needle and a choice.

 

A choice between saving the man she loves, and saving her people.

 

_ Again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it, THE END! ALL DONE. Hope you liked it.  
> I'm leaving this here all opening and hanging because you can either   
> A) Choose to believe the magic of Abigail Griffin saved Marcus and they all lived happily ever after with Unicorns rainbows and **sexytimes.**  
>  _Or_  
>  B) She gave him the injection, choosing to sacrifice love for the good of her people and the survival of their group. Again.


End file.
